


the heat of the night

by Laylah



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Devotion, First Time, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:55:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26366059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: It's still dark when he wakes again. He's not sure why at first, only that something is off. He holds still, listening for danger. What he hears instead is Hal's breathing, fast and ragged, and a sudden shift of cloth. A nightmare?
Relationships: Baragona Aragon/Halvarda
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11
Collections: Press Start VI





	the heat of the night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Welsper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welsper/gifts).



Music drifts in through the open window, from a performance happening outside the resort's pub. Up in their hotel room, the noise is distant, blending with the faraway rhythm of the waves, soothing rather than raucous. The light curtains flutter in the breeze, bringing in cool night air heavy with the scent of the sea. Baragona feels pleasantly tired from exertion both on the beach and in the water that afternoon—and in the room's other bed, Hal is already sound asleep, exhausted from all the new experiences of the day.

Coming to Auguste was an excellent idea. They're still technically on the run, but it feels far less like fleeing and far more like the life Baragona would like Hal to have. When they reached Phantagrande, they sought out the merchant Djeeta recommended to help them find a place to lay low. The merchant, a harvin named Sierokarte, suggested Auguste, and at first Baragona was skeptical, but now that he's here, he sees the wisdom of it: hide in a place where unfamiliar faces constantly come and go, where another draph mercenary with a teenage apprentice is completely unremarkable. And, incidentally, where Hal can enjoy a carefree warmth as little like the North Vast as possible.

Baragona closes his eyes, more content than he's been for long years. He never thought he'd earn peace like he's known since the Wall came down, but as he drifts off to sleep he feels it's found him all the same.

It's still dark when he wakes again. He's not sure why at first, only that something is off. He holds still, listening for danger. What he hears instead is Hal's breathing, fast and ragged, and a sudden shift of cloth. A nightmare? The whole ordeal in Rhem wasn't easy on him, and—the moan Hal makes then doesn't sound like a nightmare sound at all, sweet and needy enough that Baragona's face heats just hearing it.

"Halvarda," he says softly. Mortifying as it may be to interrupt, he couldn't in good conscience simply pretend to have heard nothing.

For an instant there's silence; then Hal makes a soft sound of dismay far too close to a sob. "I think there's something wrong with me."

Baragona sits up immediately, pushing the blankets aside. "What's wrong?"

He sees Hal shift in the other bed, movement just visible in the low light as he kicks the sheet away. The breeze from the window carries a hint of musk to him and he recognizes the scent even before Hal says, "I need to—but I can't, I mean—"

"Is this your first heat?" Baragona asks. It's been quite a while for him but he remembers how overwhelming it felt, the unfamiliar need and the immediacy of it.

"My what?" Hal says, and it feels like everything stops.

"Your first heat," Baragona says again.

"I've never... We have _heats_?" The last word comes out in a squeak and Hal claps his hands to his mouth as if embarrassed.

Baragona's heart sinks. Nobody ever told him. Did any of them even know? Most draph are fairly private about it, and a fair number of non-draph in Baragona's experience haven't even realized it happens. "Yes, we do. A few times a year, normally. It's nothing to worry about." The breeze brings him another breath of that scent and he tries to ignore the way it stirs his blood. "It'll pass on its own after a few days."

"A few days?" Hal echoes miserably. "I feel like I'll go mad by then. Already I can't think of anything but—I mean, you know."

"I do," Baragona says. He's handled his own last few heats with anonymous encounters, which wasn't ideal but was far better than suffering through it stoically. "If we knew anyone here that we could trust, someone to help you—"

"What about you?" Hal says it urgently, as if afraid Baragona will stop him. He's sitting up in bed, his nightshirt hanging open, disheveled and much too lovely. "I trust you. You know what this is like. What would help."

"You should have someone you want," Baragona says helplessly. He's all wrong for this. Hal should have options, people nearer his own age, friends at the least... He keeps thinking he's catching another breath of that tantalizing warm musk and he's far too aware of his cock thickening in his shorts. "Not just the only one available." _Not the man responsible for all your suffering_.

Hal practically flings himself out of bed and into Baragona's arms, clinging to him with both arms wrapped around his neck. "Please," he says. He's burning up, feverish heat not in the least muted by his nightshirt. "Please, I need help, when I try to do it myself it just hurts."

Baragona's arms are wrapped around him before he can think twice about it. "Gods, Halvarda." This close, that needy heat musk is overwhelming. "Yes. I'll help you. I'm here for you." He kisses Hal's throat, his jaw, his soft, panting mouth. "Let me get something we'll need and I'll be right back."

The hotel bathroom is stocked with all the amenities a reasonable person could need, plus a few extras, presumably for more demanding guests—and one of them is a small bottle of oil that feels light and slick on his fingers. He takes that back to the bedroom, where Hal has thrown off his nightshirt entirely and is sitting up in bed with his eyes squeezed shut and his hands balled in the sheets like he's trying to endure something that's almost too much for him. Baragona's heart hurts. This is just one more way that Hal should have had more options, and didn't because of him.

All he can do now is treat Hal as best he can. Baragona sets the oil down on the bedside table and climbs into bed with him, pulling Hal into his arms—hardly the first time he's hugged the boy since he woke after the Wall, but the first time that's involved so much bare skin. Hal is smooth and hot against him, squirming needily and then stilling with a sharp intake of breath when he rubs up against Baragona's erection.

"You..."

"I'm here to take care of you," Baragona says, rubbing Hal's back in slow circles. "You don't need to have anything to do with that unless you want to."

Hal kisses his cheek and then his mouth, clumsily, sweetly. "And if I do want to?"

Baragona's cock twitches. "Then we'll see how it goes." He kisses back, slowly at first but more deeply as Hal's hunger urges him on. He remembers how confusing and frustrating first heat was, how much it felt like his cock needed attention but how unsatisfying that touch was. Instead of focusing he lets his hands roam, rubbing the bases of Hal's horns, digging into tense muscles in his back, squeezing the gentle swell of his ass. Hal makes such sweet noises in response, gasps and whimpers, clinging to Baragona's shoulders.

Eventually Baragona rolls him gently onto his back. The sweet scent of him is mouth-watering, and his cock is hard enough to leave a wet smear on his belly. "Here," Baragona says, "Let me open you up."

Hal's eyes go wide for a moment but he nods, and he spreads his legs as Baragona retrieves the oil. "Did you—is this what helps you, when you're i-in heat?"

Baragona nods. "Let me show you." He strokes the cleft of Hal's ass gently, spreading oil over his hole, and slowly increases the pressure until Hal's body yields to him and one finger sinks into his soft warmth. Hal makes a lost, needy sound that makes Baragona's cock throb. "Strange at first, isn't it?"

Hal nods. "It's okay, though. I want—I just want you to keep touching me."

"Mmn. I will." Baragona presses deeper, finding the one firmer spot along that yielding inner wall. Hal _wails_ when he strokes it, back arching off the bed, cock jumping visibly. Baragona focuses right there, firm and steady, massaging the spot that grows so inflamed during heat and needs relief so badly. It takes almost no time at all before Hal's muscles are clenching and fluttering around him and Hal's cock is spilling on his belly. 

Baragona stills to let him catch his breath. "How does that feel?"

"Good," Hal says breathlessly. In the moonlight his skin is sheened with sweat and he's beautiful. "More?"

"More, already?" Baragona smiles at Hal's answering nod. It's a good thing they have the room for a few days—he may have forgotten just how demanding first heat can be. "I'm here for you," he says as he starts to rock his hand again. "Now and always."


End file.
